Content
by Acoustic Juliet
Summary: Truth be told, life is only worth living when you've got a sack full of mistakes to bury and a pit full of others to look forward to. [INDEFINITE HIATUS]


A/N: This story has been on hiatus for quite some time, now. This is the semi-rewritten first chapter, and I hope that it will provide me with the motivation to continue on to the next chapter. Thank you for having such patience; I know how much _I_ hate it when writers discontinue their stories. So, once again, thank you – and we'll see where this story goes.

Content

**Chapter One: A Sucker for a Sweet Talker**

_"What did you say?"_

It seemed as though venom coursed through the veins of the livid young man, whose dark blond hair blew furiously against the wind as the lanky juvenile before him stood effortless beneath the solid glare of the other. His fingers curled into tight fists at his sides, his lips pursed and whitening under the pressure, the tension building and creating a thick blanket of distrust amongst the two adolescents, one who wore a thick grey sweatshirt and loose grey sweatpants, and the other who wore denim trousers—which hung low against his legs—and a green T-shirt with a deep maroon patterning on its front.

The one in green stepped forward slowly, as though beckoning the other to follow in his lead. His pouted smirk turned into a sneer as he moved nearer to the boy in the grey clothing. He sniggered unconventionally, a deep, low chuckle from his diaphragm. "You heard me," he said in a slight whisper that vibrated throughout his throat as if it were a soft hymn in baritone. "I won. I _won_, Sean. You lose. You left Toronto, and _I_ won. I had the girl. I had the girl that you left behind, the girl who was supposed to belong to _you_. The girl who was supposed to _praise_ you, _want_ you, _need_ you, in debt her _life_ to you. But you ran away. _And I won_."

Sean could no longer control his ragged breathing as he moved forward swiftly and grasped the other's shirt, pushing him backward into the alley's brick wall. "I don't believe you. She would _never_ do that. Not with you. Never with you, Jay. She could never be with someone as low as you, as _disgusting_ as you. You make me _sick_. And I _won't_ believe you. Not a _word_ of it." Sean enunciated each word with such rage and emotion, pulling Jay forward forcefully, only to push him powerfully against the wall once more. "And if I see your lying self near her, hurting her, _bothering_ her, I will kill you with my bare hands."

Sean turned to stride away, and kicked a stray stone in his path. "You'll never have her again! You've screwed up, man. You've screwed up one too many times and she'll _never_ take you back! She'll never want you again! She's over you, dude. There's nothing you can do about it." And as Jay's voice drifted off into the distance between them, he could feel the sudden twinge pulling at his rented heart; he could feel the isolation of a broken friendship, a broken bond, a broken trust - completely unforgivable. He could feel the pain of the deception, betrayal, and the horrid knowledge of the freedom they had had to do what they had done. He could feel the need to hold her, embrace her, sob uncontrollably and force her to scream the words of the lies Jay had told him. But he could not ignore the feeling of doubt within his mind, the bold words of a possibility that he refused to admit to.

He had always been taught to follow the feeling in the pit of his stomach, though she had always told him to follow the pull of his heart. And his heart, at the moment, would lead him to her, but for the most selfish of reasons.

And as he reached his destination, he viewed silently the girl who had captured his heart not once, but twice in his lifetime; the girl who has always managed to reel him in like a thrashing bass. He longed for the answers to his many questions, and could only brace himself for the words he had been dreading since the moment Jay had spoken them. He watched as she sat atop her stoop, knees together, cordless telephone at her side, and arms folded neatly against her lap. She wore frayed denim shorts which rested high above her knees and a fitted white T-shirt. Her long blond hair hung loosely against her shoulders and coursed effortlessly down her back. She could not have been the one Jay had been referring to, Sean thought. But the most surreal instances proved to be the most unfortunate surprises in many cases.

He stalked forward in short, paced strides. When he finally reached her, he stood slouched with his hands fisted inside of his sweat-shirt's pockets. He cleared his throat and her head snapped up, a confused yet sedated smile tugging at the sides of her mouth, brightening her features almost instantaneously. He could easily sense that he had intruded upon her thoughts, and felt almost guilty that he would again intrude upon her morals, her innermost secrets that proved to have turned in to anything but.

"What are you doing here?" she said lightly, and Sean exhaled a relieved breath he had been holding since the moment he'd arrived. He did not respond, however, as she stood and grasped the telephone, ambling to the door and turning its knob, pushing it opened. "You can come in. Ever since Dad told Mom that you'd come back . . . she'll be excited to see you. Sort of strange, I guess, but it's been so long that I think even _she's_ missed you." She halted at the phone's bed and placed it down, turning to Sean and smiling brightly. "After all, you _are_ the same Sean Cameron who saved me from death eleven months ago."

"I hate when you say it like that," he said, and she laughed, illuminating his insides that seemed gnawed at and darkened by the friend that had proved to have been the exact opposite. "Besides, you're Emma Nelson: Woman of Steele. That bullet wouldn't have even penetrated you one bit. Who are we kidding?"

She walked into the kitchen and to the refrigerator. "Apparently, you're kidding _yourself_. But I'll take the compliment of strength, anyway." She pulled the door opened and removed a bottle of Evian water. "Do you want something to drink? I don't know what it is with Canada today, but it's September and I'm pretty sure that the temperature usually begins to drop around this time of the year, and it seems like it's been increasing, right? Then again, it looks to me like you can't distinguish heat from cold, considering you're wearing that ridiculously thick sweatshirt." She paused. "Did you want that drink?"

He shook his head and thought how impossible it was for Jay to have been truthful in his words. Emma Nelson was too perfect to have ever been brought to his level. "I'm fine," he said. Emma nodded and closed the door to the refrigerator, then twisted open the cap to the bottle of water. She pulled a wooden chair from under the kitchen table and sat cross-legged atop it, as Sean moved into the kitchen and followed in her lead - because the lead of Emma Nelson would always prove to be impeccable, no matter how abstract, unlike Jay's.

"Do you know when your parents are going to come in? I know you said something about living in your old apartment for a little while before they arrived. Something about them looking for an apartment to rent before officially moving from Wasega Beach?" She brought the bottle's opening to her mouth and drank with ease, though a lone drop coursed from her bottom lip on to her chin, and he watched with hungry eyes, as something inside of him seemed to bend. "It would be really awesome if you could actually stay. I don't know all of the details, but . . . you seem really content, Sean. Really. And I know you left Toronto to find much needed answers to all of your questions, but what if Toronto and Degrassi _are_ the answers to all of your questions, you know? What if you've belonged here all along?"

He remained silent for a moment, registering the millions of thoughts coursing through his mind. "I . . . I would've like to have been able to stay at the old apartment. But the owner is really strict with the kind of people he lets rent the place. He doesn't want just anyone staying there, you know? If something gets damaged, it's his business that's ruined. And he'd perform a background check on my 'rents. I just . . . I don't need them facing the embarrassment of a stranger knowing their history as alcoholics. They have police records because of it, so it would be really easy to track down."

"I hate that people don't believe in second chances," she said, and Sean pondered the depth of her words. "I mean, it's a shame. There is no such thing as perfection, and in order for people to grow and mature, they need to make horrible mistakes. It's a huge part of life. And I really believe that without mistakes, it's impossible to actually _enjoy _it. Truth be told, life is only worth living when you've got a sack full of mistakes to bury and a pit full of others to look forward to." He could not suppress his own smile; Emma had never before been so philosophical.

"Who are you and what have you done with the Emma Nelson I've known for four years?" He laughed and watched as her eyes squinted and brows furrowed in utter bewilderment. "You've turned into a regular Aristotle, is all."

"Who are you and what have you done with the Sean Cameron I've known for four years?" she mocked. "Since when did you know who Aristotle was?"

Sean rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Ask me to perform a trigonometric operation, and I'll laugh. I don't understand the Periodic Table of Elements, either. I'm lost when it comes to the French language, and I can't understand Shakespeare for the life of me. But when it comes to History, I'm King." It was Emma's turn to roll her eyes and let her mouth hang open slightly in sheer opposition. "Or maybe my parents finally installed cable and I took a liking to the History Channel during the AM when the only thing on TV are infomercials and outdated cartoons and sitcoms."

She chuckles, smiles genuinely and nods. "I see," she said. "Mom is upstairs with the baby. He can talk now, a little bit. He's growing pretty quickly. With genes like Dad's, he'll probably grow to the moon." She stands and Sean mimics her motions, as they head into the living room. "You can watch TV, if you want. I don't think there's anything particularly special on during Sunday afternoons, but . . . Mr. History Channel could most likely _discover_ something interesting, right?"

"I do _not_ watch the Discovery Channel." he protested, leaning back against the soft cushioning of the couch.

"I said _nothing_," replied Emma. "Be right back," and she trotted up the staircase.

Sean stared as Emma ambled up the stairs and out of sight. She's changed, he thought. There was something odd about her, though, something strange and new; and Sean was determined to uncover just exactly what this unique quality was. "Jay doesn't know what he's talking about. He's looking for attention, Sean. He's looking for attention."

"What?"

Sean turned round abruptly at the sound of a woman's voice behind him. He quickly stood and brushed imaginary dust off of the legs of his pants. "Mrs. Simpson," he said, reaching out his hand for her to shake.

She chuckled wholeheartedly. "Spike," she said with a smile. "Sean, we've gone through this before. Two years ago, I think. My name is _Spike_."

"Mom, are you torturing him already?" he could hear Emma announce, as she walked slowly down the staircase and into the room. "Here he is," she cooed. "Jack Simpson."

"He really did grow up," said Sean, as Emma sat down where he had been moments before. Sean followed and sat beside her, adjusting on to his side. "He doesn't look like Mr. S. More like you, Em."

"I don't look like any of my parents, either. Not even Shane at all. But Mom thinks that I'm a dead ringer for her aunt Molly, no pun intended - may she rest in peace."

Sean burst out laughing at that moment, while Spike settled on the coffee table in front of them. "So, Sean," she began, reaching out to take hold of Jack's small hands. "Are you visiting Toronto, staying? Archie didn't exactly say anything, and neither has Emma, come to think of it."

"I didn't want to jinx anything, Mom," said Emma.

Sean straightened himself a bit. "I . . . I _want_ to stay. I really do. But it all depends on housing. If my parents can't afford a home close enough to Degrassi, then chances are, they're going to enroll me at a completely different high school. If they decide they don't want to move at all, then they're going to stay in Wasega Beach." He sighed. "But they know how badly I've wanted to come back. Even though I stayed away for so long . . . I've always wanted to come back. I needed time, is all."

Mrs. Simpson nodded sympathetically. "You're so young. You shouldn't have been put through all that you were. It's completely understandable that you'd need as much time as you have." She stood slowly and gathered Jack in to her arms. "I'm going to drop Jack at the sitter's before I go to work. Do you two need to be dropped off anywhere? Cine-Square or something?"

Sean opened his mouth to speak, although no words seemed to escape. "Uh - no, it's fine, Mom." Emma quickly interjected. "Go ahead." Emma stood and followed her mother to the door. "Do you need me to prepare dinner or anything like that? I know you said Dad's out for the night with Joey . . ."

"No. The sitter's feeding Jack and I'll be home late tonight. Caitlin and I are catching a late flick at the theater." She strode out the door and turned back, flashing a smile in to her daughter's direction. "Don't wait up."

The sound of the door closing caused Sean to jump abruptly from his seated position on the couch. "I'm so bored," she stated, leaning against the frame of the entryway. "But I can't go out. I've got so much work to do for the Environmental Club, it's _crazy_."

"You're still with it?"

Emma nodded and grinned. "Yeah, it's awesome. A lot of Grade 7's are involved this year. It surprising, actually. You'd think they would want to join the basketball team or the gymnastics team; but I've really attracted a lot of freshman this year. But that's cool, though, isn't it? I mean, they're the future of the Environmental Club. Plus, they listen to every word I say! It's fabulous." Emma chuckled and walked toward the basement door. "Want to help me?" She battled her eyelids playfully and disappeared behind the door, leaving Sean to follow after her.

Sean could not remember the last time he had been in Emma's room, or even her residence. Memories of nights filled with double-cheese pizzas, kisses and staying up past midnight flood his thoughts, and Sean could hardly repress a smile. Emma turned to him, "What?" she asked, flummoxed. Sean shook his head and neared her, falling backward on to her bed. "What is it?" Emma approached Sean and sat beside him atop of her bed, eying him carefully.

"Nothing," said Sean, although he knew that Emma did not appreciate his nonchalance. She smacked her hand against his stomach and he winced in mock pain. "Okay, okay." Emma grinned with pride and fell on to her back, mimicking Sean's position on top of her bed. "I was just thinking . . . about all those nights we spent here, in this room . . . _alone_. I used to sneak in through that window after curfew, remember? You'd always be so freaked out that we might get caught, but we never were. And that time we ordered pizza after eleven-thirty on a Thursday night; you stood at your front door for forty-five minutes until it came. You didn't even let the delivery man come to the door; you rushed to the car, paid for the pizza and ran back to the basement window with it."

Emma snickered and smiled, nostalgia coursing through her veins. "I remember," she said. "I remember how we lost track of time and you ended up falling asleep on my bed. I slept on the floor that night." Sean laughed in recollection. "Sue me, I was a prude back then." Those words cut sharply in to Sean's mind, but he quickly pushed those questioning thoughts to the back of his head and focused solely on Emma. "But it was fun, having you wake me up at the crack of dawn, me freaking out because we both knew how early my mom had started to wake up because of Jack's early morning feedings. We could hear her creeping through the main floor."

"That had to have been one of the more dreadful moments of my life," said Sean, hypnotized by the memory. "I snuck out in record time and even had the chance to shower before school started." Sean paused momentarily. "I can't believe you slept on the _floor_. You could've woken me up and had me leave then, if it concerned you that much."

Emma shook her head and shrugged. "I didn't want to wake you. And I didn't want you to walk home alone so late. It's a scary world out there," added Emma with a smirk.

"No scarier than how your mother would've reacted had she found me sleeping in your bed on a school night." said Sean, poking Emma's side.

"The fact that it was a school night has no significance! She wouldn't have even realized that fact, Sean. All she would've seen was her fourteen-year-old daughter's fifteen-year-old boyfriend in her room, past curfew and in her bed." Sean nodded in concurrence and turned his head to the side. "What now?" Emma asked, noticing Sean's mesmerized stare. "Is there something on my face? You keep doing that . . ."

"Sorry," said Sean, slightly embarrassed. "It's just . . . You don't find this weird at all? Us? You and me, here, alone . . . _friends_? Eleven months ago we were hardly even acquaintances, but now we're—"

"I know," interjected Emma. "But I like that we're here, you know. It's taken us forever to find this solid ground. I'm just glad that it happened sooner rather than later. It sucked, how we broke up, how vengeful we both were, how angry we'd become. It shouldn't have been so difficult, but it was." Emma sighed and looked to the ceiling above. "Sometimes I wondered if I should've given you more space, given you more freedom. I wonder if I should've let you venture off and find your own friends, and not force you to partake in all of the things I was in to, but you weren't, like Environmental Club. Or maybe I should've learned to change a tire."

"Emma, shut up. Frankly, we were different people back then. I was bitter because Mr. Simpson got sick and you couldn't be there for me all of the time. I was selfish, come to think of it. Immature, selfish . . . I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I shouldn't have left you to deal with all of that by yourself. That was the worst thing I could've done, other than ditch you for an ass like Jay Hogart." Sean immediately sensed Emma's awkwardness at the mention of his former friend, and how her face tightened and body stiffened at the mention of his name.

"Snake's been in remission for two years, now," said Emma. "Everything's okay, again, finally." She turned to face Sean, eying him intently. "We're okay, finally." Her voice was soft and melancholic. Emma shook her head fervently, threading her fingers through her hair. "Does Ellie know you're back?" she pondered, quickly changing the subject.

Sean's remained silent for a moment. "No," he answered. "She doesn't. Not many people do, actually. But I guess everyone will find out come Monday for school. That should be interesting.

A knock at the door broke Emma and Sean from their trance. Emma quickly rose from the bed and trotted up the stairs and to the front door. "Manny," she said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Manny grinned characteristically and moved past Emma into the foyer. "I was bored out of my _mind_ and figured you could use a hand on Monday's presentation for E.C." Manny, Emma noted, look weary, though her dark brunette tresses cascaded too beautifully down her slender back. Emma had always envied her best friend for her curves; but there are many aspects of Manny that Emma was certainly glad she had not acquired over the years they had known each other.

"That's awfully . . . uncharacteristic of you," joked Emma, leading Manny toward the basement door. Halting, she gripped Manny by the shoulder and held her in place. "Hey, there's something you should know before you go down there." Emma took a deep breath and steadied herself, as Manny's expression turned from calm to impatient, beckoning Emma to share her story. "There's someone down there."

Manny's eyes widened. "Who?" She grinned widely, her mouth ajar. "A _boy_, perhaps? Ooh—Emma! Do tell!"

"It's Sean, Manny," said Emma. She watched as Manny fell silent, almost as if she were trying to decipher Emma's words.

"As in Cameron?" asked Manny in disbelief. Emma nodded, already feeling tired and exasperated. "_The_ Sean Cameron? As in the same Sean Cameron who broke you heart two years ago? As in _the_ Sean Cameron who hooked up with Jay Hogart and his loser friends? _That_ Sean Cameron? The one who saved your life and then ditched you for mommy and daddy last year? _Seriously_? Sean—Sean Cameron?"

"In the flesh."

Manny paused and inhaled sharply, turning to face Sean, who appeared behind her at the top of the basement stairs. "Sean," said Manny, eying him carefully. "Long time no see, eh?" Emma scrunched her nose at Manny's questionable greeting and pushed her aside, albeit gently.

"It's been a while, definitely," said Sean. "If you guys have plans, I could just leave—"

"No!" said Emma abruptly. Her tone caused both Manny and Sean to stare at her oddly, eyes slightly widened. "I mean, there's so reason you should have to leave on account of Manny's rude intrusion."

"Hey!"

"We'll order in pizza." suggested Emma, walking toward the kitchen telephone. "Double-cheese," she said, winking at Sean. Sean grinned and Manny found herself at a loss for words. "And then the both of you can help me with my Environmental Club presentation!" Both Sean and Manny groaned. Quickly, however, Manny refocused her attention on to Sean, peering at him suspiciously.

"Sean," she said, inquisitively. "You're back?"

"For the time being, I am," he answered, plainly, as though hoping their conversation would thus end.

"Interesting," muttered Manny, eying him with intrigue. "How long?"

"I don't know, I—"

"No," interjected Manny. "I mean, how long have you _been_ here? When did you come back to Toronto?"

"Three days ago," said Sean.

"You're staying at your old apartment?" Sean shook his head. "Oh; well, Ellie's not there, anymore. I heard she moved out. Marco said she moved out. She _did_ move out, didn't she?" Sean found himself unable to speak, and Emma immediately sensed the conspicuous awkwardness which engulfed the room the moment that name slipped so casually from Manny's lips.

"She did," said Emma. "The pizza should be here in twenty-five minutes. I'll give them thirty." Emma smiled at Sean, knowingly, although somewhat sadly. "The presentation board and all of the materials are in the basement. But I don't think we'll hear the doorbell from down there, so we should work in the living room, in case." The others concurred and Emma led both Sean and Manny in to the room, taking a seat on the couch beside Sean, while Manny sat atop of the floor, eying her best friend and said best friend's former boyfriend with intense curiosity.

"So you _aren't_ back for good, then?" said Manny, staring at Sean questioningly.

"Uh . . ." an awkward quiet filled the room.

"So, Sean," said Manny, moments in to the silence, breeching it terribly. "Where have you been staying, if not your old place?"

"I was staying at Jay's," said Sean, quite uncomfortably. _Was?_ thought Emma. "But we . . . we're not talking right now. Something happened. I don't want to get in to it, but I need to find somewhere else to stay." Sean sighed, and contemplated. "I was thinking I could stay at . . . Craig's." Manny fell silent. "Sorry, I know you—"

"No," said Manny, "it's not that. Just . . . Ashley left for London, you know. She left Craig for the summer. Marco said no one knows if she's even coming back to Degrassi this year. But he's . . . he's, like, best friends with Ellie, Sean. She's there all the time, from what Marco told me. I was at the mall with him the other day and he was complaining that they, like, never see each other anymore, because she's always with Craig, always at his place."

Sean nodded, silent. "Oh," he muttered. "I didn't know you were close to Marco."

"Since last year, I guess," said Manny, nonchalantly.

"At least she's . . . occupied." said Sean.

Emma's head snapped up, her eyes narrowed and glaring in Manny's direction. "Guys, seriously, either glue or go."

"Sorry," both Sean and Manny mumbled, continuing to paste bits of construction paper to the presentation board.

"Manny!"

"What?" said Manny, her attention now focused on to Emma, who sat upright with her hazel eyes boring in to those of Manny's deep, chocolate brown. "Too much at one time?"

"Something like that," muttered Emma. "Just . . . no more talking about Sean's housing difficulties. You're freaking him out with your incessant babbling. Plus, that last person I want to discuss is Jay Hogart." Sean noticed as Manny's face fell conspicuously at Emma's mention of his former friend's name. Manny nodded sympathetically and peered at Sean, quickly altering her countenance to that of a lighter, less solemn expression.

"What's going on?" said Sean, slightly demandingly.

"Nothing," said Manny abruptly, gathering green construction paper and organizing it in to one pile.

"Emma . . ." Sean turned to Emma, glancing at her, imploring further discussion of the matter with his intense stare.

"I had some problems with him last year, is all," said Emma rather briskly. "I don't like mentioning him, seeing him, speaking to him or speaking of him whenever I can avoid it." Emma sighed and met Sean's frown. "I don't like him, Sean, and given the fact that you had just gotten back from Wasega and were staying with Jay—your _best_ friend—I didn't want to make the situation more uncomfortable between us by bringing up my utter detest for the vile creature that is Jason Hogart."

"Emma," breathed Sean, "I haven't felt uncomfortable once around you since I've been back. Granted, you weren't supposed to find out—"

"You didn't come to her?" interjected Manny.

"No," said Emma. "He ran in to Snake at the ravine the day he came back. Dad was there collecting data for the Insect Club and I was with him to see how I could structurally organize this year's ravine cleaning effort. It was by chance that we'd run in to him, actually. And of course he insisted Sean come over for lunch. Mom was at work and Jack was at daycare, so it was just the three of us."

"Had I known you guys were all chummy again, I might not have disrupted you're little get-together." Manny smiled suspiciously, and Sean's eyes widened at the thought.

"No!" exclaimed Emma. "You're an ass, you know that? It was cool"—she turned to Sean—"to see him, to talk to him after all this time. Surprisingly, there wasn't any tension at all." Emma grinned and rubbed shoulders with Sean.

"Too much history," laughed Sean.

"Way too much," concurred Manny.

Minutes later, Emma ran downstairs to retrieve the presentation board. The threesome began crafting various symbols and designs, pasting them on to the board as Emma systematically designed its outline. But the doorbell rang not fifteen minutes later.

"Pizza's here!" said Emma, holding a large cardboard box as she ambled in to the living room.

"I love free food," said Manny, helping herself to a provided napkin and slice of the pie. "Courtesy of Mrs. Christine Nelson-Simpson; how I love thee!"

"It's been a while," said Sean, sinking his jaw in to a large slice of pizza.

"It has been," said Emma, picking at the cheese on hers. "A long time, huh?" Her eyes met Sean's for a brief moment, as Manny looked between them, smiling to herself and bowing her head to shield her amusement.

"Too long," smirked Sean.

An hour or so past and Manny left Sean and Emma in solitude; they sat together in silence, occasionally sneaking stolen glances at one another. Emma's face flushed each time her gaze met Sean's and inwardly cursed herself for the sudden and unexpected butterflies that invaded her stomach as he stared at her. She could hardly read his expression and found herself inquisitive. "What if things don't work out with Craig?" she wondered aloud. Sean's eyes widened and Emma quickly apologized.

"No, don't be sorry," said Sean, leaning back against the couch cushions. "I don't know, then. I might have to suck it up and . . . and apologize to the human ball of slime that is Jay Hogart."

"What happened, Sean?" said Emma, bemused. "I mean, I know you said you didn't want to talk about it or whatever; but it's just so odd to me. Two years ago, you gave up all of the friends you had to worship the ground he walked on. And now, all of the sudden, you abhor the guy like he ran over your mother with his car. Seriously, Sean; you know you can talk to me."

Sean nodded, still skeptical. "Part of me just doesn't want to bring it up. It's a sore subject. It's . . . it's not important, really. I mean, I just don't feel the need to discuss the utter crap that he spews."

"Okay," said Emma. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine with me." But Sean could sense that Emma's words were hollow. He stared at her with great bewilderment and tried his best to evade the thoughts swirling around his mind, drowning his better judgment and suffocating his trust in Emma. "Hey, do you want to sit outside or something? A little fresh air, maybe?"

"Yeah, sure," said Sean, standing and thrusting his clenched fists in to the pockets of his sweat-shirt.

"Great. Let me grab another water bottle." Emma said, stalking in to the kitchen.

"You didn't even finish the first one." he laughed.

"It's been sitting there forever. I . . . I don't know. It's going to sound so weird, but I hate reusing water bottles. Opened ones. They freak me out. Particles and whatnot."

"Particles?"

"Yes, _particles_," said Emma.

"That's a waste of water, though, isn't it?" Sean asked, following Emma outside and on to the front porch. They sat simultaneously atop of the concrete stairs.

"Not really. I'll use it to water the grass or something."

Sean chuckled. "Whatever you say."

"Sean," Emma began softly, "I don't mean to interfere, but . . . I can't help but question what made you come here. You seemed all tense when you showed up and then you mentioned you'd had some altercation with Jay. Look, Sean, I can understand it if you don't want to talk about it . . . but I told you that Jay and I had some issues last year. And I can't help but think that there were words exchanged . . . regarding me . . . and something that may have taken place a few months ago. I just . . ." Emma shook her head furiously and gesticulated with her hands. "Forget it. Forget what I just asked. I need to learn not to be so intrusive. My weakness, I guess."

"No," said Sean. "You wouldn't be Emma, otherwise. . . . I . . . I did have a fight with Jay. And you were mentioned."

Emma frowned. "Oh . . ."

Sean ignored Emma's faltering countenance and continued forth. "Em, he said some really awful things about you. But I don't believe him. I shouldn't, right?" Emma sighed and turned away from Sean's gaze. His eyebrows furrowed and Sean swallowed every bit of doubt he'd had. "Emma . . . did you and Jay hook-up while I was gone?" Emma nodded reluctantly, tears brimming in her hazel eyes. "Did the two of you do all the things he said you did? The bracelets and the ravine . . . _Did you go down on him?_" Sean's eyes widened and he felt like a suffocating presence had grasped him by the throat, choking him in to an indescribable misery. "Jesus Christ, Emma . . ."

"I'm sorry." said Emma suddenly, turning round to eye Sean. "I'm so sorry. I was vulnerable, okay? I screwed up. I was desperate. I was everything negative you could think of."

"Emma, how could you?" demanded Sean, as he stood, knocking over the water bottle as he did so. Its contents began spilling mercilessly down the stoop.

"It's not like we were together, Sean. You were with Ellie, remember? I was friends with Jay . . . in a way. In a sick and twisted way, he was the only person I could turn to. I _needed_ him. You weren't there and he _was._" Her words pierced him like a thousand needles and her voice seemed raspy and venomous.

"Don't blame your lapse of judgment on me!"

"I'm not!" Emma sobbed. "Damn it! How could you even think for a moment that I actually prided my decisions? If I could turn back time and change what I did, then I _would._ But right now, it's too late for that."

"I can't even _look_ at you." Sean spat. "You're not who I thought you were."

"What?" Emma hissed. "Who did you think I was, Sean? Because whoever that was, she _died_. She died. And then she was brought back to life, Sean. Bruised and broken, but still who she used to be."

"You're _not_ who you used to be. Not at all."

"Then who am I, Sean? _Who am I_?" Emma screamed, thrusting her arms toward him.

"A _whore_. A _slut._" he growled. "I don't even know you anymore."

Emma coughed violently as tears fell dramatically from her bottom eyelid. "Funny, 'cause I could say the same about you." Emma pushed Sean backward and he stumbled a bit before regaining his balance. "Just get the hell out of here! Just go! Go! Don't look at me, don't talk to me—just _stay away_."

"Emma . . ."

"I believed in you, Sean," said Emma through her tears, "when no one else would. I gave you the chance you deserved and you broke my heart, not once, but twice. Happy third mess-up, Sean; way to welcome it with open arms," Emma turned away and stormed back inside of the house, slamming the door shut. Sean looked away and took off down the street, fuming and baffled. This was not what he had been expecting when he returned from Wasega Beach; this was the epitome of everything he did not predict.

Emma watched him from the window and wiped away the tears which cascaded down her cheeks with the back of her hand. And the water from the bottle continued to pour, spilling its content like a mountainous stream. Emma felt herself fall numb; she felt broken and tainted.

But most of all; she felt dead.


End file.
